


You Know Me

by StrikerDouchecanoe



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Post-Season 4, With some fluff at the end, a shitload of angst and sass, after terminus, alternate storyline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 11:07:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2426519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrikerDouchecanoe/pseuds/StrikerDouchecanoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The group barely manages to escape the hellhole of Terminus, following Rick's lead. Outside the walls, they are met with several unexpected reunions, all of which are joyful. On the journey to the newest safe haven, however, tensions run high--especially between Maggie and Daryl. Glenn and Rick try to play referee as Tyreese and Carol strive to bring their friendship through the horrors it has had to endure. Carl notices Michonne staring after his father and vice versa. And Daryl and Beth are struggling with everything they left unsaid before she was kidnapped.</p>
<p>Rated M for scaryness, walkers, and language. I haven't decided if shenanigans will ensue. <br/>The title is taken from a song by Air Traffic Controller.<br/>I do not own the rights to any of these characters or the plot of seasons 1-4, but I'm damn grateful to AMC for the inspiration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Know Me

"RUN!" Rick bellowed, knocking out another guard with the pipe he'd wrenched off the train car. They were taking fire, all of them, dodging bullets left and right. Daryl found himself thinking that he'd have taken even Woodbury over this shit, racing for the fence faster than he'd ever run before. 

He had abandoned hitting the guards or trying to eliminate them; Daryl Dixon ran like a wild thing for freedom, shoving guards to the side or plowing right over them. He remembered the last time he'd run this fast with a sharp pang in his chest, silently vowing that this time, he wouldn't give up. He had failed Beth. He wouldn't fail Rick. Carl. Maggie. Glenn. Daryl repeated the names to himself as he ran, a mantra that pushed him past the burn in his lungs, a prayer that kept the terrible fear at bay.

And then Rick and Carl passed him, Carl holding on to his hat as if for dear life, and the rest of the group blew by Daryl in a blur of motion. Rick motioned to where they were headed--away from the buried guns, Daryl noticed belatedly. 

The next thing Daryl noticed was the sound of his own laughter. The group was racing away from the tracks and up a steep bank, all of them running flat out, throwing panicked glances over their shoulders. But they were out. They were running and they  _had the fucking advantage_ out here. 

"Stop! Get down!" Abraham Ford hissed. "Cars!" 

Daryl flung himself to the ground and willed his breathing to slow, squeezing his eyes shut. 

Agonizing seconds later, the faraway sound of cars grew closer, then unbearably close, and then it faded, racing into the distance. 

"Won't take 'em long to realize we didn't go that way," Daryl muttered. "We gotta keep runnin'."

 

The group took off again, racing through the thick North Georgia woods, putting as much distance between them and Terminus as possible as quickly as they could.

The trees seemed to be thinning slightly, and then with no warning, the runners burst out of the woods into a huge clearing. Daryl had covered half the ground in the clearing before he saw the group ahead of them. His first thought as he came to a screeching halt was of walkers--of the herds that had plagued them since the outbreak--but at a second glance he realized they were people. Living people. 

Rick stepped forward. 

"Who are you?" he demanded, hefting the iron pipe in his right hand. 

"Rick?" someone called. "Rick! Is that you?"

"Who's there?" Rick shot back.

Tyreese shoved through the men at the front of the other group, eyes filled with tears of joy. He grabbed Rick in a bear hug before turning to Sasha, who looked like she'd seen a ghost. 

Another familiar face made its way to the front. Carol wore the same clothes and short gray hair of only a few weeks ago, but years of sadness and horror were etched into the lines of her face. Daryl acknowledged her stare with a quick nod before looking away to scan the perimeters of the clearing for walkers--or worse, inhabitants of Terminus. 

It seemed almost unreal to him, that after all they'd been through, there were living human beings worse than the rotting corpses that stumbled across the country eating anything that moved. First the Governor, now Terminus. Daryl shook his head. Maybe there were good people left somewhere, he thought. But not here. Not anymore. 

He would have gone on contemplating what he was beginning to see as inherent evil, had Rick and Carl not let out strangled cries in unison. Daryl snapped back into the present, fists clenched. At first, he only saw Rick and Carl hugging Little Ass-Kicker, and his brain struggled to process the fact that  _holy shit, how did she make it,_ until he noticed a flash of blonde and his eyes snapped to the girl standing in front of Rick and Carl. 

The same hair, the same wild eyes, the same bloodstained yellow shirt and torn skinny jeans. Daryl's breath caught in his chest, heat suddenly stinging the corners of his eyes and threatening to spill over.

And then she looked at him with a small smile, and Daryl Dixon fell to his knees right there in the clearing, thanking God from the bottom of his scarred heart for the first time in a long, long time. 


End file.
